


Even Heroes Need Saving Sometimes

by Captain_Jade



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Anorexia, Anxiety, Bulimia, Crying, Denial, Depression, Dissociation, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorder Recovery, Eating Disorders, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Self-Acceptance, Self-Denial, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Thor (Marvel) Feels, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, getting better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-02-04 16:57:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18608704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Jade/pseuds/Captain_Jade
Summary: After joining the Guardians of the Galaxy, Thor's mental health begins to decline even further than before. He covers up this depression by occupying his mind with something else--food. Or rather, the absence of that. He starves and binges and purges himself into ignorance.But before he knows it, consequences of this subtle slow suicide start to show, and he has to find the strength--and the humility--to ask for help.





	1. Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, if you haven’t figured out yet, there will be spoilers for Endgame in this fic. If you haven’t seen the movie, don’t read this. Just don’t.
> 
> Also, I would like to issue a TRIGGER WARNING. This book deals with eating disorders, self-destructive tendencies, self mutilation, and other mental health issues. If you think this will trigger you, PLEASE DO NOT READ.
> 
> I hope that if you do not fall into any of those two categories, you enjoy this. :)

Thor is getting better. He’s shaved and gotten a haircut, he is slowly weaning off of alcohol, eating healthier, and working out a lot more. Occasionally, though, he slips. Usually, it's after a nightmare. His nightmares feature a wide variety of traumatic events, but this one in particular is about his brother. His baby brother, whom he had loved and protected his entire life, only to have him murdered by Thanos right before his eyes. He sees that scene play out over and over again, hears the crack of Loki’s neck, sees the repressed fear in his eyes, and then wakes up with a panicky feeling in his chest.

Then he raids the kitchen.

This is the third time it’s happened since he had joined the Guardians, which was just a little over two weeks ago. Everyone is bound to get suspicious that there is a ton of food and alcohol going missing. And they will no doubt blame Thor after seeing his lack of progress in his weight loss. This might actually have something to do with the fact that he’s been eating less than half of what he should, but he doesn’t think about this. He just thinks he’s a pig.

Thor rests his head on the back of the cabinet and buries his face in his hands. How could he have let this get so bad? This is not taking care of himself. This is not supposed to happen. Why is everything so unfair? They’d gotten back everyone for everyone except for him. Although he did have a nice heart-to-heart with his mother, he would have liked it to go on a little longer. He didn’t get to see his father. He didn’t get his brother back. He’d lost absolutely everything.

Couldn’t he at least get one person back? Gods, he is a mess. His bloated stomach pains with the immense amount of food he’s just consumed. He just wants to throw it all up.

Wait.

Thor pulls himself up to his feet. He could do that, couldn’t he? What was it called again? Purging? He’d heard about it before. He shakily walks down the hallway to the bathroom and bent over the toilet, feeling very silly, because surely, he thinks, it won’t work. And besides, it’s not a thing that most grown men do.

But he slides his fingers down his throat and leaves them there a few seconds, and he heaves. It’s a dry heave, but he feels it coming back up, so he does it again. And sure enough, a splash of vomit plummets out of his mouth and into the toilet bowl. He does it again, and again and again until his stomach is noticeably flatter and he feels a lot less full than before. And he feels this peace of mind because he’s figured it out. He’s back on track. He’s taking care of himself. Thor pulls out the scale and steps onto it, and sees that the number isn’t so bad.

Great. Now he knows what to do.

He rinses out his mouth, flushes the toilet (twice, so nothing is left behind), cleans up the kitchen, and goes back to bed, feeling empty and full at the same time.

 

 

Thor is awake the next morning, having breakfast with Quill, Drax, Mantis, Rocket, and Groot. Although he’s not really having breakfast, he’s just completely out of it, staring into space and failing to answer whenever anyone tries to talk to him. “You okay, man?” Rocket asks. Thor nods, not looking at him. He is staring at his plate of eggs and toast.

“Is the problem the peculiar pigment of the eggs?” Mantis asks. “They taste very similar to what is on Earth. They will not harm you.”

But no, it is not the purple eggs. Nor is it the fact that Quill cooked them (Peter is actually a surprisingly good cook). It is the fact that he is Fat, and Fat is not something a superhero should be. He pushes the plate away. “It’s alright,” he says. “I’m sure they’re delicious. I need to lose weight, though. Remember?”

“Well...you still need to eat. To survive,” Peter points out. Thor rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to perish for skipping one meal,” he says. “I’m not very hungry anyhow. I think I’ll go...work out again.” He excuses himself from the table, his stomach growling loud enough it’s noticeable, earning him some suspicious looks from everyone.

"I know, but...this isn't the first time you've done this."

Thor quickly leaves the room and heads to the training deck. He can’t seem to get last night out of his head. He feels distant, as if he’s watching himself from above. His movements are purely mechanical. He’s not thinking about what he’s doing at all. He just punches the punching bag, does push-ups and sit-ups and weights until he’s sore all over and he just lays there on the ground.

“Are you okay?” Thor sits up quickly, noticing Rocket appear in the doorway.

“You’ve already asked me that, rabbit,” Thor says irritably. “I told you that I’m fine. I’m finding my own path. I’m being the person I am.”

Rocket tries to come up with a snarky reply, but he just stands there, staring at Thor. “You’ve just seemed really off today,” he says quietly.

“Happens to everyone every once in a while,” Thor waves his hand dismissively. “What are you doing here?”

“Just to check on you. You’ve been down here for at least two hours. It’s like all of a sudden, you’re…” the raccoon falters, failing to come up with a word for it. “Different,” he decides.

“No,” Thor counters, “I’m getting back to normal. I was different when I was...mourning.”

“Right,” Rocket grimaces. He doesn’t have anything else to say. He doesn’t have enough evidence to confirm his suspicions.

“Well,” Thor clicks his tongue. He doesn’t have anything else to say either. He has too much dignity to tell anyone about what he did last night, although he’s sure it wasn’t very good for him. But it had to be good for him! Surely it was better than eating all of that junk every day!

He shakes his head and stands up. “I’m feeling a little tired.” Which is an understatement. Both he and Rocket know this. “I think I’m going to go lie down for a while.” Rocket nods. “And quit looking at me like that,” Thor adds.

He enters his room and locks the door. He’s borrowed the music player of Quill’s, so he puts on headphones and chooses the playlist titled “sad songs.” He isn’t sure who made the playlist, but it is very good background music to his existential crisis sessions.

What would Loki think of him?

He thinks about this a lot, and he can’t decide on an answer. He can’t decide whether Loki would make fun of him or be worried. Sometimes Thor is worried that Loki hated him. Thor is worried that a lot of people hate him, which has never been an issue for him before. He is not who he used to be.

He is different.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor is not better. He was doing a lot better when he first got here. But now he is getting bad again. Thor curls into himself on his side in bed, his mind far too full and his stomach far too empty. He is pathetic, he is fat, he is a failure. He is just so very, very sad, and he doesn’t know why. Isn’t his grieving over? Isn’t that what those 5 years of binge-eating and binge-drinking and playing fortnight with Korg and Miek was about?

Thor forces himself to get out of bed, and he realizes that he has slept through most of the day. No one has bothered to wake him up. They probably don’t want him to. They’re probably laughing about how lazy, fat, and stupid he is, and how they regret agreeing to let him stay.

Thor sits back down on his bed, his head in his hands. Why is he like this? Where are these thoughts coming from? He knows very well that on Midgard, these are the kind of thoughts that you go to therapy to get rid of. But...that’s different. That’s for mentally ill, insecure teenagers. Not for gods who are Completely Fine. Not for Thor, because he is not delusional. These thoughts are the truth.

Thor stays there for a few more minutes before standing up. He walks into the kitchen, and there is Quill, Nebula, Rocket, and Groot. “Good evening, sleeping beauty,” Quill jokes, handing Thor a plate full of some kind of space food.

Thor hesitantly takes it, his stomach growling, reminding him that he has not eaten anything all day. He stares at it a minute.

“You..you are gonna eat it, right?” Rocket asks. “You didn’t eat breakfast or lunch. You’ve gotta be starving.”

Thor is indeed starving. He nods, trying to smile and failing, takes a seat across from the raccoon, and picks up his fork. He is starving, but he doesn’t really want to eat. What is wrong with him? He’s being ridiculous. He takes a bite, becoming aware that everyone is staring at him. “What?” he asks.

Peter shakes his head. “Nothing.”

Thor finishes the meal, feeling full for the first time in a few days. His stomach likes this feeling, and his body likes this feeling. But for some reason his mind does not like this feeling. He tells himself again that he is being ridiculous. Everyone is still staring at him, so he attempts to change the subject to something besides his eating schedule. “Where are Drax and Mantis?”

“Don’t know. I think Drax is training and Mantis stole my Zune again. They already ate.” Peter replies, sounding disinterested. Thor clears his throat awkwardly.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?” he demands.

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

“Shut up, Groot, no he’s not.”

“Do I have what?” Thor asks. “What’s that?”

“Nothing,” Rocket says carefully, after exchanging glances with Groot. “Don’t worry about it.”

Thor takes his plate to the sink and leaves without saying anything.

* * *

  
  


They pick up a distress signal in the morning. Thor still feels disconnected with reality, and he still doesn’t want to eat, but judging by the strange looks he’s still getting from everyone, he should probably have breakfast anyway just to avoid them getting even more suspicious.

Which they shouldn’t be. Because Thor is fine.

But, he starts thinking, as he sits down for breakfast, maybe they’re giving him these looks because he’s eating too much. Or because they don’t know why he’s still here. Because Thor is not someone people like to have around. Not anymore. Or maybe he never was. Maybe everyone who used to say they liked him laughed about him behind his back. Or maybe-

“Thor,” Mantis interrupts this train of thought, “are you all right?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Thor chuckles, through a mouthful of space waffles. “I think you’re overreacting.”

There is a moment of silence before Rocket nods. “Maybe we are.”

There are no bad guys to fight, no monsters to kill, no villains to conquer. There is only a couple and their child, who have run out of fuel. Thor is a little disappointed by the lack of action. He thought being a Guardian of the Galaxy would be a little more exciting than waiting around for distress signals. Drax has told him that they used to do more before Gamora was killed.

Thor understands. Before he lost his mother, his father, his brother, and all of Asgard, he was a lot more heroic, too. In fact, he doesn’t feel like going out of his way to find a fight anyway. He’s too unmotivated.

Thor almost hits himself in the face, but there are people around and he doesn’t want to seem any more stupid than he already is. He’s supposed to be Better Now. He feels bored, yet he doesn’t want to do anything. This is getting ridiculous. He needs to stop being so mopey and needy.

It’s been five years. Five entire years of mourning. Unless it was just five years of putting off mourning, and that’s what’s happening now. Maybe stuffing himself wasn’t working, so now he’s starving himself instead. Thor cannot figure out why everything is so messed up.

He helps Drax hook up the fuel pipe to the couple’s ship. “Hey, aren’t you Thor?” the child says.

“Um...why yes I am,” Thor says, grinning. His heart is beating strangely fast for some reason. That’s never happened before.

“You’re the thunder god,” the child smiles. “You’re one of the Avengers! You helped get my daddy back!”

Thor smiles back, for real this time. “I’m so glad I helped you get your father back,” he tells her. The mother approaches him, tears in her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Thank you, so much.”

But...it wasn’t him. It was Tony. It should have been him. Thor bows his head in respect anyway. “It was my honor,” he replies. What honor? He asks himself.

The family leaves, drowning them in thank you’s (after Quill insists that the rest of them helped too). Thor feels better and worse at the same time.

It should have been him, he thinks, as he laughs with a drunk Rocket in the kitchen that night. It should have been him, he thinks, as he stares into the darkness in bed. It should have been him, he thinks, as he reaches for the fridge door in the middle of the night. Why. Is. This. Happening?

But somehow he finds the strength to close the door and go back to bed. He is strong. He has self-control. He is fine.

* * *

Although he has slept at least 12 hours, Thor feels exhausted by the time he wakes up. He feels as if he hasn't slept at all.

He sucks it up and gets up.

"I'm going to go find Gamora," Nebula announces.

"What?" Quill cries, blocking the door to the escape pod. "You can't just  _do_ that!"

"Why not?" Mantis asks. "She is her sister."

"B-but I'm her  _boyfriend!_ "

"But she doesn't remember you," Nebula harshly pokes Quill in the chest.

"But she could be anywhere, Nebula! You can't search the entire galaxy all by yourself!"

"Well," Mantis begins. Then she freezes. She has accidentally brushed her hand against Thor's arm.

Mantis leaves her hand there a second before bursting into tears.

Everyone stares at Thor.

Thor stares at Mantis. This is not good.

He shakes her off of his arm and stares back at the Guardians. "Well," his voice is a little shaky, "should we split up to look for her?"

Nobody replies.

 


	3. God of Denial

A wave of panic washes over Thor. He can see them all looking at him, judging him. Mantis looks like she’s trying to figure out a way to hug him without touching him.

“Thor, what’s…” Rocket starts, and then realizes that this will get him nowhere. “Mantis, what does he feel like?”

“It is like-”

“Nothing! You’re just too sensitive. The problem that we are currently discussing is of the disappearance of the one called Gamora. Right? What are we going to do about that?”

It is still silent. Mantis tries again, very quietly, “Thor, I really think that this  _ is _ a problem.”

“Stop! What I’m feeling is none of anyone’s business. It’s not a problem. It’s not important. It’s fine.” Thor’s voice is growing louder. Rocket gives him a look that says,  _ we’re going to talk about this eventually.  _ Thor gives him a look back that says,  _ no I’m not. _

He storms out of the room, glaring at Mantis and feeling bad for it afterward. She just wants to help.

But Thor doesn’t need help. He says that to himself over and over, a new mantra. It fits nicely with, “I should have gone for the head,” and, “it should have been me.” These thoughts are repeated over and over and over again until he is so tired of thinking them and from existing, he almost falls asleep again. But he is too afraid Mantis will blab everything she felt from him.

Thor feels trapped.

And hungry. And he wants to eat, but he  _ can’t. _ What in the universe is  _ wrong  _ with him? He wants to eat. He will not eat. No, he is strong.

He stands up and starts to walk toward the kitchen.

No. No no no no no no no, STOP.

He is strong. He will not eat. There is too much regret in his veins to add anything more to the mix.  _ There is too much regret in his veins to add anything more to the mix, but _ . But, there is something he can do to get rid of the guilt.

Nobody is looking. Nobody will know. Everyone is looking. Everyone knows. Everyone hates him, everything is wrong, what in the  _ universe  _ is  _ wrong _ with him?

Thor throws open the cupboard. He grabs a handful of pretzels and shoves them in his mouth. Everything he consumes is everything bad in his life. He is going to get rid of it all.

Thor eats and eats and eats and eats and _yes that’s it now go and get rid of it shove your fingers down your throat did we lock the door it’s too late now someone will catch us someone is coming stop get up stop stop stop somebody is at the door what are we going to-_

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

Thor freezes.

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

“No, I’m fine,” Thor says. “What do you mean, did I do that on purpose? You’re ridiculous, Tree. That’s disgusting, I would never do anything like that.” He stands up, washes his hands, rinses his mouth out, and flushes the toilet. Then he faces Groot with a grave look on his face. “And don’t you dare tell anyone, you hear me?”

Groot eyes the back of Thor’s hand, which is red and raw. But he agrees. He doesn’t know what he can do about it anyway.

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

“We do? Good. What’s the plan?”

* * *

They are splitting up. Thor, Rocket, and Groot will take the smaller ship, while the rest of them will stay in the Milano. Nebula and Peter have concocted a list of places where they think Gamora might be, although as the list goes on it seems more and more random and desperate.

All Thor can think about is the fact that Mantis will have plenty of opportunities to tell on him, and if he’s not there, he won’t be able to stop her.

But…they won’t care. Star-Lord is probably kicking him off of his ship because he hates him. Poor Rocket and Groot. Maybe Thor should just go back to Earth. But he wants to help. He wants to be useful.

Thor’s head does not make very much sense right now. His thoughts go back and forth and his feelings are all jumbled up. He does not like this feeling, this helplessness, this  _ sadness. _

They’re leaving in the morning. Thor skips lunch and has a little less than half of a sandwich for dinner, not caring about the strange looks he gets. Mantis still looks very sad. Thor glares at her again so that she won’t say anything. He is trapped.

Everything is wrong.

He steps on the scale again after he showers. He’s lost 15 pounds since he first joined the Guardians. Or, since he first decided to live on their ship. It was Rocket’s idea. Maybe Rocket doesn’t hate him as much as everyone else.

Or maybe Rocket just pities him.

Thor clutches his head in his hands, fighting back tears and winning, but just barely. He didn’t use to be like this. 

He walks back to his room and pulls out a communicator. Then, without thinking, he contacts Bruce Banner.

Thor doesn’t expect him to answer, but he does. “Hey, Thor!” Bruce’s voice is gentle, a different tone of voice that he used to use with him. “How are you doing?”

_ I need help,  _ Thor wants to say,  _ I think there’s something wrong with me. I’m not okay.  _ But he's a god, and he has to be __ okay, so he says, “great!”

Bruce is very nice. He doesn’t question why Thor called him at what must be 2 in the morning on Earth. He doesn’t sound annoyed. He talks to Thor for a while, but he must sense that something is off, because after a while he asks, somewhat hesitantly, “Thor, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Thor snaps, a lot harsher than he intended. “I mean...sorry. Yes, I’m sure. I’m fine, Banner. Just…I miss Earth.”

“Well, you can come to visit sometime.”

“Maybe.”

“Soon.”

“Perhaps.”

“Well…talk to you later, okay?”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s nice talking to you. Glad you’re…you’re doing better. Bye, buddy.”

Thor stares at the communicator for a few minutes and then throws it across the room. It is a miracle that he doesn’t break it or wake anyone up. He is not doing better. He is doing worse.

He knows this, even though he doesn’t want to believe it. Thor curls up as small as he can make himself and squeezes his eyes shut. Sleep is good. He doesn't have to think as he sleeps. But try as he might, the rest of the night is very restless. It's probably the hunger pains. He's too tired to even binge and purge.

Thor is not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on posting a new chapter every week, on or around Tuesday. (But I really can't make any promises.)
> 
> I'm sorry if this one seemed like filler. I swear the actual plot is happening soon. I have it all planned out, I just need to write it.


	4. Distractions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY COW. Thank you so much for 100 kudos! I can't believe that 100 separate people read this story and liked it so much they took the time to let me know!

“We’re leaving.”

“Great,” Thor murmurs into his pillow. He forces himself to sit up, still as tired as before. He wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling tired. He supposes he’ll get used to it after a while. “Where are we going first?”

“The Sanctuary,” Rocket replies. As soon as the words come out of his mouth, he cringes slightly.

“What’s ‘the sanctuary’?” Asks Thor.

“Um…Thanos’...throne room.” Thor’s expression hardens.

“Th-  _ his _ throne room?”

“Yeah. Um, are you…is that gonna be too…upsetting…for you?”

Thor does not reply.

“Thor,” Rocket says.

“Upsetting,” Thor repeats. “No. No, it’s fine.”

Rocket nods. Rocket probably doesn’t believe him. Thor isn’t sure he cares.

He is starving, so he allows himself a single hard-boiled purple egg for breakfast. He feels it sitting uncomfortably in his stomach, and although he doesn’t exactly feel  _ full, _ he considers…getting rid of it.

But there’s no time. He boards the ship with Rocket and Groot and stares out the window. It is silent. Groot is staring at him.  _ What if he told Mantis? What if they  _ know _?  _ Thor runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly. He looks at his hand. 5 strands have fallen out. Thor swallows hard and wipes his hand on his knee.

It’s fine. He’s fine.

His stomach growls fiercely, earning some strange looks from Rocket and Groot. He wraps his arms around himself and swallows again. Disgusting. He is disgusting. Thor takes a shaky breath and continues to ignore them.

_ I hate myself. _

This thought surprises him for some reason. He certainly doesn’t  _ love _ himself anymore. That would be bad, anyway. His narcissism had probably caused Loki to become evil. Loving yourself is wrong. Demanding things is wrong. Being attention-seeking is wrong. Thor wants to hurt himself. Thor is afraid of himself. Thor is not okay.

But he has to be okay.

So he remains silent for the rest of the way to the last place in the galaxy he needs to be.

* * *

He can  _ hear  _ him, even though he’s dead. Thor steadies himself against the side of the ship, staring at the giant throne where Th- where  _ he  _ had sat. He can almost see him. There are too many…thoughts…in his head.

_ You should have gone for the head you should have gone for the head I am fine I am fine I am strong it should have been me should have gone for the head should have been me _

“Oh my gods,” Thor whispers.

“Hey, buddy…are you okay?” Rocket asks, genuinely concerned. Thor is…Thor is  _ not  _ okay.

He is hyperventilating. “She’s not here,” he says. “She’s not here, can we go?”

“Okay,” Rocket says. “Okay. We’ll go. We’re leaving. Come on.”

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

Thor doesn’t move.

“Thor,” Rocket repeats, softer. “We can leave.”

Thor shuts his eyes, turns away from the throne, and stumbles back into the ship. He’s fine. It was nothing. He’s fine.

* * *

Thor has a hotel room to himself. Groot wanted them all to have separate rooms, but Rocket wouldn’t let him. Thor is jealous of Groot and Rocket’s relationship. It reminds him of what he and Loki’s relationship used to be like when they were younger. Before Loki learned that he wasn’t Asgardian.

Before everything got messed up.

Thor is starving. But he’s used to this feeling. He likes it now. It’s a feeling other than sadness and numbness. He loves this distraction, this obsession. Thor gets out of bed and does 100 sit-ups in the darkness. He likes the pain. He loves it.

He tells this to himself until he believes it.

* * *

Thor stands up and has to steady himself against the wall when his head starts spinning. His stomach is growling like it’s alive. He should probably eat something.

Thor grabs a rice-cake and slathers it with almond butter. He eats that in about 2 minutes and then eats four heaping spoonfuls of almond butter. Which he shouldn’t have done.

“You ready?” Rocket asks.

Thor swallows. “Yeah. Um, you go on ahead without me. I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he replies, forcing a grin.

Rocket shrugs. As soon as he and Groot have left the hotel, Thor downs two glasses of lukewarm water and stumbles into the bathroom. It wasn’t necessarily a binge, but he ate more than he was planning, so he has to get rid of it. He heaves so violently he loses his balance and throws up on the floor. Horrified, he scoops it up with his bare hands and puts it in the toilet before he realizes what he’s doing.

He is  _ disgusting. _ Why is he  _ doing  _ this? He grabs a paper towel and wipes it up off the ground, finishes purging (even though he’s touched the dirty floor, he has to get it up before he absorbs the calories) and washes his hands, scrubbing so hard his hands are both red and raw. He stares at himself in the mirror, bits of vomit in the stubble on his chin that’s begun to grow back. His eyes start to water.

But he doesn’t have time to cry right now. He washes his face and flushes the toilet and rinses his mouth out, and then hurries to find Rocket and Groot.

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

“Yes, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Thor demands, pulling his sleeves over his wrists. “Why would Gamora be here?”

“I can’t really see their logic behind this one either,” Rocket says. “Xandar will take forever to search, too. Since, you know, it’s a whole planet. Maybe not quite as big as the Earth, but imagine searching the entire face of the Earth for a single person.”

“We have resources, though. DNA scanners. Stuff like that.”

“Yeah. Still. I don’t think she’s here anyway. It’ll take weeks.”

“Have the others found anything yet?”

“I am Groot,” says Groot.

“Ah,” says Thor, even though he wasn’t paying attention and has no idea what Groot has just said.

* * *

It’s dull work, but it’s not as if he has anything better to do. Thor can’t remember what day it is.

The days blend into each other. All he can think about is food.

Disgusting.

He is disgusting.

But he’s fine. Because he has to be.

Days pass. It must be the 6th or 7th day, or something like that. “Thor?”

Yeah. It’s been 7 days. “Thor?”

Is somebody trying to talk to him? “Thor!”

Thor turns around, slowly, so he doesn’t fall over. “What is it, rabbit?” he asks.

“I can’t get a hold of Quill.”

“What about Nebula?” Thor slurs.

“I can’t get a hold of any of them! Are you drunk?”

“Probably,” Thor hiccups. Alcohol has calories. He should probably purge. But it tastes horrendous, and his teeth hurt, and he’s just so tired he doesn’t think he can do that.

“Are you kidding me?”

“No, I really am drunk. I’m sorry.”

Rocket says a word that he and Loki used to get in trouble for saying when they were children.

“I’m sorry,” Thor repeats, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I think...I-I…” He stands up and reaches for the trashcan that’s nearby, but he misses. He doesn’t have to purge anyway. Rocket darts out of the way and looks very angrily at Thor.

“What is wrong with you?!” he yells.

“I don’t know,” Thor says quietly.

“Oh,” Rocket looks guilty. “Do you...do you want something to eat?”

“I’ve done enough of that the last 5 years,” Thor sighs, sinking back down into his seat. “Anyway, what are we going to do now that we’ve lost contact with everybody?”

“I don’t know. This ship isn’t really made for long distances.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“What?”

Rocket gives an aggravated groan. “Come on,” he says. “We have to keep looking anyway.”

“Great,” says Thor. He leaves the ship. He’s dizzy. It’s a different kind of dizzy than regular drunkenness, though. His vision is swaying, his head is throbbing, and he’s so tired he’s surprised that he doesn’t just fall over.

And then he is so certain he’s going to fall over, he stops. “I am Groot,” says Groot.

“Of course not!” Thor yells, a little louder than intended. Then he does fall over.

* * *

He’s on Earth. How did he get on Earth? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. The much more pressing question is why is he hooked up to an IV, and why does he feel so panicky?

“How are you doing, buddy?” Banner. Why is Banner here?

“I’m fine,” Thor says, out of habit.

“I disagree,” says Bruce, in a soft but severe voice.

Thor bursts into tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I have some bad news. Ironically enough, in a few weeks, I am going to be put in an inpatient program for my Bulimia. I don't know if I'll be able to continue to write this. The good news is, there's not much of this left and I think I might be able to finish before I'm admitted. I'll try my best! Again, thank you so much for all the support. I'm so, so sorry! I hope this chapter didn't seem TOO rushed. I'm really trying.


	5. Baby Steps

"Thor, do you have something to tell me?" Bruce asks softly.

"I have lots of things to tell you! I shall tell you of all of my adventures since we last parted. The Asgardians of the galaxy and I-"

"Thor," Bruce says firmly, his hand on Thor's bicep. "Tell me about your...dieting."

"I..." Thor falters, looking away. "It's nothing," he says.

"It is not nothing," Bruce cries, gesturing to the heart monitor and IV Thor is hooked up to. "You're starving yourself!"

"I’m not!" Thor snaps, propping himself up in bed. "Starving means eating less food than you need. I've been eating far too much!"

"What do you mean, far too much?"

Thor looks away again, and mumbles, "well...sometimes I can't...stop...eating."

Bruce nods slowly. "And, Thor," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you do after that?"

Thor says nothing. His heart monitor shows his heart beat increasing.

"Hey, hey, it's alright. I won't be mad, I promise. But please, buddy...please tell me," Banner pleads, his hand on Thor's.

"I...I get rid of it."

"How?"

"...I make myself sick." As he says this, Thor realizes how messed up it is. He jerks his hand away from Banner's and buries his face in his hands. "What have I done?" He rasps.

"It's okay," Bruce consoles him. "It's okay, I promise. I promise I'm gonna help you fix this."

"What's wrong with me?"

"...I think you have an eating disorder," Banner says.

Thor bites his lip and lays back down again, his back facing Bruce. "I am a god," he says, with some uncertainty in his voice.

Bruce hesitates. “It’s okay. It’s okay, buddy, I’m not mad. I’m gonna see if I can get in contact with a treatment facility-”

“No! You can’t!” Thor clutches Bruce’s arm.

“Well then what do you want me to do?” Bruce demands. “You’re killing yourself! Do you have any idea how dangerous self-induced vomiting is?”’’

“...no,” Thor says quietly.

“Okay,” Bruce pulls up a chair at Thor’s bedside. “Bulimia can cause electrolyte imbalance. It can cause tooth decay. It can cause heart attacks. It can cause rips in the stomach and tears in the esophagus. All of these things are deadly. I don’t want you to die! Thor, do you want to die?”

Thor ponders this question, before answering, “yeah. I think I do.”

Bruce buries his face in his hands for a second. “What do I do?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Thor says.

Bruce is crying. His shoulders shake with uneven breathing, quiet sobs racking his figure. Thor bites his lip and looks away. He feels guilty, but he doesn’t know what he can do.

“I really messed up, didn’t I?” he murmurs.

This gets a small chuckle out of Bruce, who looks up with his eyes glistening with tears. “We all did,” he whispers. He takes Thor’s hand and squeezes it. “I’m gonna help you fix this, okay?”

“Okay,” Thor takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to say something else, but he stays silent. He and Bruce just stare at each other. “I’m sorry,” he says after a few minutes.

Bruce shakes his head. “ _ I’m  _ sorry.” The two touch foreheads, shaking and nervously laughing and not sure what to do. They hug, and don’t let go for a long, long time.

* * *

"I...I can't, Banner," Thor says. There are tears in his eyes as he stares at the plate. "I can't eat that. I either eat nothing or everything. If I start, I..I won't be able to stop." He gulps and looks up at Bruce like a child.

Banner sits down next to him. "It's okay," he says gently. "I'm right here. You can do it, buddy."

Thor takes the fork in his hand hesitantly and looks back up at Bruce, who nods encouragingly, with a sad smile on his face. Thor takes a deep breath and stabs a bite of chicken and  _ nonono don't do that put it down you can't you can't you have to get rid of it- _

"Thor. I'm right here," Banner says again. He leans over and places a hand on Thor’s arm. Thor drops the fork and breaks down into sobs. Bruce hugs him, rubbing his back. "It's okay, it's okay," he murmurs into Thor's hair. 

Banner pulls away. "Thor, can you please explain to me why you're so afraid of food?"

"...I'm trying to figure that out myself still," Thor mutters, turning away.

"Please. Please try."

Thor is quiet for a few minutes. "I feel like I'm losing something. This thing, this...this eating disorder...it has become a part of me. There are too many parts of me that are missing. A huge one died with Loki, and my mother and my father...so many more are scattered throughout the galaxy, and I'm afraid...I'm afraid that if I lose any more of me, there will be nothing left."

"Thor...buddy, if you continue to do this to yourself, there really won't be anything left of you anyway. You're wasting away. You're paler. More tired. You're sick, Thor. You're sick. You're dying."

Thor is crying again. He leans into Banner, who cradles him in his arms again. Bruce presses his lips Thor's head. "Your hair is fuzzy," he says. "That's not good. That means it’s getting thinner; that’s from lack of nutrition."

"Maybe I've just been using conditioner," Thor replies. He looks at Banner and they both laugh; a hesitant, dark laugh that lightens the mood a bit. Not much, but it's enough for Thor to sit up and take a bite.

"Good job," Banner whispers. “You’re doing good.” Slowly but surely, Thor finishes the meal. Afterwards, he clutches his stomach.

“It’s too much,” he breathes. “My stomach hurts, I have to get rid of it.”

“No no no no, just sit down. Come here,” Bruce leads him to the couch and literally holds him down to stop him from getting up. At this point, Thor is too weak to fight back. He just cries.

They hug again. “I don’t think I can do this, Thor,” Banner says. “You need help. You need professional help. I can’t give you that.”

“They’ll know who I am.”

“They might, yes.”

“Bruce, I’ve been doing some reading these things, ‘eating disorders.’”

“You have, have you?” Bruce curses himself for underestimating Thor’s ability to access the internet. “How?”

“Stark taught me to google things once.”

“Oh.”

“I can’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“I’m a grown man. I’m a  _ god. _ Eating disorders are for teenage girls.”

“That is false,” Bruce says sternly. “What you’re doing, would you call it normal?”

“Well...no, but…”

“But nothing. I’m going to call one of my friends tonight to come over tomorrow. Her name is Jackie, and she specializes in eating disorders. She’ll give you a screening and then we’ll talk about what to do from there.” Thor doesn’t reply. Bruce ruffles his hair and asks softly, “okay?”

“Okay,” Thor nods. He squeezes his eyes shut. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you going through all of this trouble just for me?”

Bruce seems caught off guard by this question. “Why wouldn’t I?” he sputters. “You’re my best friend!”

Thor rests his head on Bruce’s chest. “I don’t deserve that.”

“You don’t deserve  _ this _ .”

Bruce kisses Thor’s head and then his hand. They stay that way for the rest of the afternoon.

* * *

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“I don’t want to talk to her,” Thor pouts.

“All we want to do is help you!”

“I don’t want help.”

“I know. But you need it,” Bruce hesitantly takes Thor’s hand. “Let’s answer the door. Come on, we can do it together.”

Bruce opens the door. “Hey, Jackie! I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Of course,” she says. “Hello, Thor! You ready for our interview?”

“I guess,” he says.

“Let’s go sit on the couch,” Banner suggests.

And then they begin. Bruce and Thor are still holding hands for some reason. Thor doesn’t let go. He is afraid. He doesn’t know why. He’s fought more monsters and villains than he can count, yet this is the thing that’s scaring him.

“Alright. I’m just gonna ask you a few questions,” Jackie says. “First: if you were to check your weight right now to find that you had gained 3 pounds, how would that make you feel?”

Thor swallows. Bruce squeezes his hand. “Um,” he says. “Not...good…” This doesn’t seem to be a good answer, so he continues, “I’d feel like a failure.”

“Can you tell me why that is?”

Thor shifts in his seat. “No,” he says.

“Okay. That’s okay, these things are hard to talk about. Thor, can you tell me how important your weight is compared to other things in your life?”

“Um…” Thor ponders on this question a long time, before finally answering, “it is important, but I don’t think…this…I don’t think this is  _ about _ weight.”

“Okay. Okay, I understand. Often times it’s not, but sometimes that’s what it seems like. Can you tell me what you do think it’s about?”

The questions seem to go on forever. After she is finally done, she turns to Bruce. “Bruce, can I talk to you in a separate room for a moment, please?”

“Of course,” he gets up and leads Jackie into the kitchen, leaving Thor alone on the couch.

Thor tries to listen in on their conversation, but he gives up after a second. Maybe, he thinks, he’s gone too far. Maybe he does need help.

Thor pulls his feet up onto the couch and leans into the back of it. He is not ready to stop, but he realizes that he never will be. He is not ready to stop. That is not the question. The question is if he is willing to change.

And, he thinks, taking a deep breath as Jackie and Bruce reenter the room, he  _ is _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is the last chapter for a while. I want to thank you all for how supportive you're being! I apologize again for having to leave. I hope this didn't seem too rushed. I was just trying to finish it in time, so I'm sorry if it's not my best work. But again, I tried. :)


	6. Immunity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm baaaaack...
> 
> And I think I'm much more qualified now to write about Thor's recovery.

 

“We have a few options,” Bruce says to Thor that night.

“What are they?”

“Well. We could do an outpatient program, where you’d sleep here and then go to the center from noon until eight.”

“That one.”

“Will you listen to the other options?”

“I know what they are. They involve sleeping there. I don’t want to do that.”

“Well, I know you don’t  _ want _ to. The question is, do you  _ need _ to? Because me and Jackie are both strongly leaning towards a PHP, partial hospitalization program.”

“You can’t make me do anything, though.”

“You’re right,” Bruce says regretfully. “I can help you pay for it, but I can’t force you into any of them. I am very strongly encouraging it, though.”

“It would be absolutely ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“Because I will be a six foot three adult man in a building with a bunch of teenage girls.”

“No. This is an adult program.”

“Then I will be a six foot three adult man in a building with a bunch of young women.”

Bruce rolls his eyes. “That sounds like something you’d like.”

“Bruce!” Thor scoffs. “You know what I mean!”

“We’ll talk about it more in the morning, okay?”

“Okay.”

They both go to sleep. Well, actually, they both go to bed. Neither of them sleep.

* * *

“Can we just try it here? Please?”

“We tried that.”

“Please give me another chance! Give me two weeks!”

“What is two weeks gonna do?!”

They’re fighting. It’s not the first time. Thor has seriously considered leaving Bruce’s house and ditching this whole “recovery” thing. He honestly doesn’t know why he’s still there. But he is, so he has to make it work. Even though he isn’t sure he wants to anymore.

Sure, it’s dangerous and deadly, but it works, and it’s nobody else’s business, so why can’t they just let him keep starving and binging and purging until he dies? Thor doesn’t understand why everyone seems to  _ care _ so much. He’s not  _ worth _ caring about.

He tries to bring this up to Bruce once, and he makes him cry. So he doesn’t ask again.

“I miss you,” Bruce says.

“What are you talking about? I’m right here.”

“No,” Bruce shakes his head. “You’re really not. You’re right next to me, yet you’re a million lightyears away.”

Thor thinks about this for a long time.

* * *

This is a lot harder than he thought it would be.

They’ve decided. Thor will be in a 5-day PHP program. He will go to the treatment center Monday through Friday, and come home for the weekends. Bruce says it’s a compromise. Thor doesn’t think it’s much better than staying there full time. He’s very upset about leaving when Bruce finds him curled up on the couch. His eyes are filled with tears. He wordlessly looks up at Bruce and mouths, “please.” As in, “please don’t make me go.” As in, “please let me continue being bulimic.” As in, “please stop caring about me.”

Bruce just hugs him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“ _ I’m _ sorry,” Thor mumbles.

“You have  _ nothing _ to be sorry about.”

The god of thunder bursts into tears, each sob breaking the man apart into little pieces of an imprint of a person. He is afraid that he has truly, truly lost himself, and that there is nothing he or anybody else can do to fix that.  _ He does not want to get better. The eating disorder is all he has. _ “I don’t want to give it up,” Thor mutters.

It takes Bruce a few seconds to figure out what he means by  _ it _ . It takes him a few minutes more to think of a response. He says, “I’m not giving up on  _ you _ , though.”

“I want to throw up, Bruce.”

“I’m not going to let you do that.”

“Bruce, I’m so, so tired. Of this, of everything. Of life.” Thor squeezes his eyes shut. Bruce plants one very gentle kiss on each eyelid.

“Then rest,” he says. He doesn’t dare let go of Thor; doesn’t dare loosen his grip, even when he’s sure Thor is asleep. He is afraid of losing him. He is so, so, afraid.

Bruce eventually falls asleep too, and they both lay there together on the couch all night. They don’t wake up until the sun shines through the window on them, and it’s a relief to both of them that the other is still there.

“You ready to go?” Bruce asks a few hours later.

“No.”

“Are you packed?”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get in the car, then.”

Thor almost starts to cry again but he doesn’t. He puts his bags in the trunk and gets into the passenger seat next to Bruce. “Isn’t it expensive?” he asks.

“Well, yeah, but I have insurance, so it’s not that bad.”

“I feel guilty that you’re paying for this.”

“Thor, I’m an award winning scientist, remember? Have you seen my house? I can afford it, trust me. I can afford it for as long as you need to get better.”

“What if I don’t get better? What if I never get better and I just...have this forever?”

Bruce doesn’t answer, so Thor says again, “what if-”

“Is that what you  _ want _ ?” he asks. He doesn’t mean for it to come out harshly but it does. Thor looks hurt. They don’t talk for the rest of the hour-long trip.

There’s a lot of paperwork to be done. Both Bruce and Thor spend at least 20 minutes filling out forms. Thor has to do  _ five  _ of them about his  _ mood  _ and  _ feelings _ and  _ thoughts _ , and for about half of the questions he fills in the bubble that says, “not sure.” He doesn’t know how he feels, except for angry. Angry that Bruce cares about him, angry that he doesn’t get to be bulimic, angry that he has to do this  _ stupid _ program.

When the paperwork is finally over, he has to say goodbye to Bruce. The scientist hugs him tightly, which kind of catches him off guard. But he hugs him back, and says, “thank you.” It’s very quiet, and not exactly true, but Bruce hugs him tighter and whispers,

“You’re welcome, love.”

* * *

 

Thor is not the only male there. In fact, the youngest person there is an 18-year-old boy who rarely ever talks and never makes eye contact. That is, until he sees Thor. His eyes widen and his jaw drops, which has been a common reaction to seeing him today. But then, he smiles. It’s only for a few seconds, and it’s very faint and subtle, but he definitely did smile. Thor catches it. He waves at him. The boy’s eyes get even wider. But before Thor can talk to him, they’re called down for group therapy.

It’s a lot more cliche than Thor thought it would be. It really is an empty room with a half circle of chairs. There’s a chair in the front of the room for the therapist working with them today. She tells them all to introduce themselves.

A young woman with short, brown, curly hair begins. “My name is Sawyer,” she says. “This is my third treatment center, and hopefully the last one. I’m ready to kick this thing in the ass. I’ve had a few relapses, but I’m starting again with a brand new mindset and I think this time is going to be the time it really sticks.”

Thor is surprised to see that not everybody looks like a skeleton. There are only two scary-skinny women out of the twelve residents. There’s actually someone who’s an overweight anorexic. “My name is Catheryn,” she says. “I used to be obese, but I became anorexic and dropped a whole lot of weight. Nobody believed me at first. They laughed at me and told me that I was much too fat to have an eating disorder. Then I was hospitalized and the doctors told my family that I really was undernourished.”

One of the scary-skinny girls spoke up, whose name was Annemarie, “I know how that feels. I didn’t always look like this. By the time I was twenty, I had been obese, overweight, and underweight more than twice each.”

Thor nods slowly. “Yeah,” he whispers. “I...I’ve experienced that too. Well, actually, no one ever told me that I was too fat to have...um...that. But, I have...I’ve looked much different than this, and…” he trailed off. “Never mind,” he mumbles.

“There’s a lot of stigma,” Joylette, the therapist, agrees. “Gabe, you haven’t introduced yourself.”

“...I’m Gabriel. My parents forced me to come here. I was gone for five years, because of the snap...I think they were hoping I’d come back normal or something. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with what I do. I don’t know why everyone is trying to change me.”

It’s silent for a few minutes, so Thor decides to introduce himself as well. “Um, well…if you haven’t figured out yet, I am Thor, the god of thunder, and I’m a…a bulimic, apparently.”

After he says this, Gabriel’s head snaps up and he lets out a tiny gasp. “You  _ are _ Thor,” he whispers, so quietly he’s barely heard.

“Yeah. I thought I was immune to Midgardian illness.”

“Well, no one is immune to emotions,” says Annemarie gently. “No one is immune to hurt. Not even gods.”

“I...I guess not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for all of the OC's. I'm always super annoyed when people put a ton of OC's in their fanfictions, but that was kind of the only way I could make this part of the story work. I'm sorry. Please try to be patient with me. I'm a little rusty, so this chapter probably wasn't great.


	7. Let Him Eat Cake

Bruce Banner steps into his house and breaks down into tears.

At first it’s just a few tears slipping down his cheeks, but it soon turns into full-on sobbing. He cries for a long time, staying with his face in his hands and almost afraid to move even after he calms down.

Thor was brought to him by Rocket. He had run into a family they had helped fuel up their ship, and they gladly escorted them to Earth. Rocket left without much explanation, but after examining Thor and everything Rocket had told him, a sinking feeling settled in his stomach.

What had happened to his friend? The innocent and optimistic god he once knew was  _ gone _ . He left for 4 months and then all of the sudden...although, when Bruce reflected on this, he remembered the last time he had seen Thor before they figured out time travel.

 

_ "Banner..." Thor murmurs, looking up from his place resting against the wall. _

_ "What is it?" _

_ "Can you...can you get me a trash can? I think...I think I'm going to be sick." _

_ Bruce pales slightly, jumping to his feet and hurriedly grabbing a trash can for Thor. "Are you okay?" He asks, sitting down next to him. _

_ "I...I don't..." Thor hangs his head over the trash can for a second before throwing up violently. Banner rubs his back gently, worried about his friend. He's seen all of the other avengers sick before, but in the ten years he's known the god of thunder, Thor has never even had a cough before. He's supposed to be immune to Midgardian illnesses. _

_ Bruce waits for an answer to his question, but Thor just spits into the trash can to get rid of the taste and starts to…cry. Which is even more concerning. Again, Bruce has seen all of the Avengers cry except for Thor. _

_ It starts off as soft hiccups, but progresses into full-on sobbing, and the god of thunder turns around and buries his face in Bruce's chest. Bruce is shocked, but encloses Thor in a hug, trying to relay some comfort. _

_ It's a while before he calms down. _

_ Once he does, they stay that way for a few minutes, still in that position. Then Thor abruptly pulls away from Bruce, startling him. "I'm sorry," he says slowly. "I am not being rational. As an Asgardian, and more importantly as a king, I must not let these silly emotions get in my way of-" _

_ "Stop," Bruce interrupts Thor, "you are allowed to have feelings. You've been through a lot, buddy. We all have. I don't think any less of you." _

_ Thor is silent for a moment. "Thank you, Banner. You are a very good friend." His voice is still wavering. Banner looks at him sadly. _

_ "So, um...are you sick?" _

_ "What? No. I can't contract midgardian illnesses, it's impossible." _

_ "Then why did you..." _

_ "Well...I don't exactly know," Thor says slowly, "I've been in countless battles before. I don't know why this one was so...particularly upsetting." _

_ "Oh," Bruce replies softly. He thinks it probably has to do with the fact that half the universe is dead, and so is everyone in Thor’s family, but he doesn’t mention that. "Are...are you gonna be okay?" _

_ "I'll be fine," Thor says. Then, after a minute, "I have to be." _

_ “Well…” Bruce hesitates. “I’ll be here if you need me. We all will.” _

_ “Thank you,” Thor says, sounding uncertain. _

_ Bruce bites his lip and nods. He’ll be okay. They’ll all be okay. Maybe not for a while, but they will. _

 

At least, that’s what he thought.

He had no idea it could even get this bad in just four months.

Bruce swallows down another sob and stands up. He can’t wait for Saturday.

* * *

Thor is dissociating, apparently. It’s happened to him before, but he didn’t know the name of it until now. He asked his therapist about it.

However, although it’s happened before, it’s never happened for as long and for as intense as it is now. It’s been three days and he still doesn’t quite feel... _ real _ . Sometimes he can’t even hear when people are talking to him. His eyes are glazed and his face is blank. He cannot believe that he is here. He almost hates Bruce for talking him into it. But he can’t hate Bruce, because Bruce is currently his only friend, so he hates himself instead.

Because he is so incredibly weak, he, a god, is seeing a therapist every day and is being watched 24/7 to make sure he doesn’t throw up. Which hasn’t always been successful. He’s thrown up in front of the staff twice, but the second time was more of a protest and a statement. He wants to prove he’s still in control. But he doesn’t know who exactly he wants to prove that to: the staff, or himself.

Right now, though, he’s sitting alone on the couch in the common room, and he has never in his life felt so empty. But it’s a very different kind of emptiness than hunger. He  _ likes _ hunger, he practically loves it. But  _ this _ ...this is the reason.

Because when he’s hungry, it distracts him from the other kind of emptiness. The emptiness that was once filled by Asgard, his parents, Loki, the avengers, his friends, and  _ himself _ . Those are a lot of missing things. Too many, in fact, that Thor doesn’t think it’s possible for that empty place to ever be filled again.

_ “The sun will shine on us again, brother, _ ” Loki had said. Well, it didn’t. Loki was dead, for good now, and Thor was left forever in the darkness.

And then he starts crying. Which is really stupid. He cries far too often nowadays. Everything is wrong. Nothing can ever be okay again.

He is not ready to leave this behind. He  _ needs _ his eating disorder. It  _ protects  _ him.

“Thor?” Thor jumps. He’d forgotten that Gabriel is in the room, because the boy is so quiet. “Um...are you...are you okay?”

Thor almost laughs. No, he’s not okay. He’s the farthest thing from okay there is. “No,” he whispers. He begins to sob. “I can’t do this. I can’t...I’m not Thor anymore. I’m not a person anymore…I...I-I can’t be h-here anymore. I want...I want t-to die.”

He wants to die.

That thought rolls around in his head for a long time, while he listens to the pathetic sound of his own whimpering. Then something unexpected happens. Gabriel gives him a hug. It’s a really awkward, sideways, and quick, but he did it, and in that moment, Thor feels eternally grateful to this 19-year-old boy.

He is heard. He is understood.  _ He is understood _ . Thor is able to wipe away his tears and sit down at the dinner table.

He eats.

And it’s a little bit more okay than last time. He keeps it down.

_ He is understood. _

He calls Bruce that night, with some help from Annemarie because he has no idea how to operate a phone. “I can’t wait for tomorrow,” he says.

“Neither can I,” Bruce agrees.

Thor is going to be okay. Maybe.


End file.
